Christmas Truce
by AgentOfAngst
Summary: In the Aftersnap, Christmas isn't quite the same. Part of my new 12 days of Christmas challenge, day one!


**I'm doing another Holiday Challenge! This time I'm obviously taking a crack at the twelve days of Christmas, starting with this Avengers story to celebrate Spiderman Into the Spiderverse coming out today, as well as to attempt to honor the memory of the late legend, Stan Lee. For many Marvel fans, it will be a bit of a sadder Holiday knowing that he is no longer part of this world. But we can still celebrate his legacy and enjoy his works, knowing he inspired so many people to create as well.**

 **On that melancholy note, the fandoms I'll be celebrating with are as follows, in no specific order:**

 **Ducktales**

 **Big Hero 6**

 **Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.**

 **Gravity Falls**

 **Teen Titans**

 **Percy Jackson**

 **Avengers**

 **Girl Meets World**

 **Be More Chill**

 **Sing**

 **Arthur**

 **Wreck-It Ralph**

* * *

The last thing anyone needed in the Aftersnap was a year without a Santa Claus. For the random population remaining there were many young children who hadn't a clue what was happening. Why mom or dad or siblings or friends had just dusted. So many were terrified and traumatized by witnessing the global destruction of their beloved. In a year full of terror and fear, a little Christmas magic would have done everyone, young and old, some good.

But Christmas magic was nowhere to be found. The few remaining undusted elves didn't know how to pull off Christmas without a Claus. Letters to Santa were still coming in, but they had no way to meet the quota. It was aggravatingly terrifying. There was nothing in the world that they wanted to do more than give something back to these suffering children. And prove to suffering adults that there was some semblance of magic and goodness in the world. But their magic had dusted into the snow. Disappearing like the guy in The Santa Clause.

But it wouldn't be true to their Christmas Spirit if they gave up now. Even though it was definitely impossible, their leader had instilled in them the spirit of never giving up, and especially never giving up on Humanity. It was a lesson they'd learned better than Thanos.

Toy production was stalled. Half the elves were dusted as well, and some of the remaining elves couldn't tell a Barbie from a Furbie, having typically tackled the less creative pursuits of Santa's workshop. There was nothing magical to putting out a bunch of Amazon orders, so that was off the table. And so was old Saint Nick, with his Christmas magic, and his sleigh, and his ability to get everything done in one whimsical night. Now there was no longer any whimsy or magic. There wasn't even any snow. Just grey street sludge mixed with salt grime and ice in unfortunate places. It seemed like the only thing to do was to cancel Christmas. And shove their candy-coated can-do attitude up Rudolph's furry behind.

So that's just what they did. With no Santa and few efficient elves, how would they ever get anything productive done? No one wanted to give up on the children of the world. But they couldn't do it this year. They couldn't do anything worth doing. They couldn't bring happiness to everyone, and they weren't going to pick and choose which children deserved it more. That would be utterly unfair of them. Everything was spinning out of control, and one more force of goodness just snapped.

But the goodness in the world wasn't just gone with Santa Claus. If Santa was the only staple of goodness in the universe, then superheroes wouldn't exist. And sure like half of them were gone now, but there were people stepping up as heroes now who never would have been before. All that the heroes, that the Avengers and the Guardians and whatever Deadpool was calling his miserable little band of misfits, all that they had ever done was for the good of Humanity. What they hadn't realized was that Humanity had never stopped being good.

Ordinary people made Christmas continue to be Christmas. Little kids going without toys this year gave little homemade ornaments to strangers. Hardworking, grief-stricken human beings sacrificed their time and money to bring smiles to anyone who was noticeably going without this winter season. Gloves were given and scarves were shared. No one had to be cold in the Aftersnap. No one got to be greedy. With so few left, everyone was important. The little gatherings that would normally occur for Holiday parties and festive family feasts turned into enormous potlucks where all were welcome, and ugly sweaters were donned.

No one forgot why this Christmas was so different from the rest. No one forgot that Thanos had dusted half the population. It wasn't like tidings were glad because of Thanos. Rather, in spite of him. In the midst of the infinite war, all sides stopped for a Christmas truce. If this was a war zone, it was Christmas 1914 all over, 104 years later. A yuletide ceasefire for all the grief-induced bitterness and mistrust to be left in the trenches. Because in reality, no one really wanted to fight anymore. Not on Christmas, and not in the Aftersnap. No one was left unaffected by the snap, and with so many hurting, it was increasingly difficult to harbor ill will. So instead! Peace on Earth, good will to man.

The caroling continued late into the night. Strangers slept, shoulder to shoulder. There was no danger, no disaster. For one night, there wasn't even icy sludge. There was the closest thing they could get to a white Christmas, and it was beautiful. They could all close their eyes, and see twinkling Christmas lights, and it felt beautiful. It felt like home. Like togetherness, and warmth, and family. It felt like everything that Thanos had tried to destroy had stuck it out for the sheer stubbornness of it all. Christmas just couldn't be killed. Christmas couldn't just be snapped away as old Claus had been. Christmas was resilient. Christmas remained. Because, even halved, humanity remained. And that was where the Christmas spirit lay. Not in perfectly gift-wrapped presents, but in people.


End file.
